Basketball as Stress Relief?
by RevSue
Summary: A Missing Scene vignette from PD 1 if you have my kind of imagination!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters since Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot. I make no money from this work of fiction._

Basketball as Stress Relief

"Grandma? Where does Joe play basketball in Genovia?" Mia asked abruptly one day in the middle of her 'training' for the State dinner that evening.

"Basketball?" Clarisse looked blank.

"Yeah. He was playing it on the school roof yesterday in the rain while I was talking to Lilly. He's really good. He hardly ever missed a basket. He has to play it a lot to be that good."

"I have no idea. What IS basketball?"

"You don't KNOW?" Mia stared incredulously at her grandmother. Then she looked at Charlotte. "Do YOU know where he plays in Genovia?"

"Actually, there is a games room in the palace, and a gymnasium," Charlotte responded promptly, "with the basketball court marked out, as well as volleyball and badminton, both inside and out."

"What do you do, throw balls into baskets?" Clarisse asked, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

"Right." the fifteen-year-old said, missing the faint inflection in the queen's voice. "Can I ask him where he plays here? He's gotta keep that great shape he's in SOMEHOW, don't you think?"

Charlotte smothered a laugh in a cough as Clarisse stared at the teenager. "WHAT did you say?"

"I want to know where he ..."

"Amelia, that's enough." Clarisse suddenly stood up. "No more talking about Joseph in such a manner. He is your chauffeur and bodyguard ..."

"But Grandma," Mia protested, even as she automatically rose with her grandmother, Charlotte scrambling to her feet as well, "Joe's such a cool old guy ... well, actually, Lilly said he was HOT. I mean, you HAVE to notice his bod, don't you? I expect a kiss from him would be a REAL foot-popper, not like the kiss from that creep Josh. My hand even feels all tingly when Joe kisses it. But maybe that's the moustache tickling it. Doesn't it just make you swoon when Joe touches you? I was almost breathless when I was dancing with him last week, and just mortified when I crashed into him, but he was so sweet to me. I felt so graceful and beautiful when I was in his arms. Have you ever danced with him?"

In spite of her agitation and complete disinclination to continue this discussion with her precocious CHILD of a grand-daughter, Clarisse couldn't help her thoughts flying swiftly to her first dance with Joseph, right after Mia had left last week. She had to admit that she, too, had felt graceful and beautiful in his arms; she, too, had fallen under his spell and had been completely mesmerized by his eyes as they had moved so fluidly to the music. She had never felt so alive or so ... desirable ... in her life! And it was Joseph who had made her feel that way! JOSEPH! Her Head of Security, her trusted friend, JOSEPH!

"Your Majesty," Charlotte's timid voice broke into Clarisse's thoughts. "If you would be interested in seeing a basketball game, I know that the security team is playing right now in the consulate basement."

"Oh, Grandma, please? Can we go watch them? We can have our tea down there, can't we? Iced tea, this time, instead of hot tea?"

For a moment, Clarisse wavered, uncharacteristically indecisive. Then she yielded. "Why not? We have a bit of time before we have to get ready for the State dinner. Lead the way, Charlotte."

After a quick stop at the kitchen to pick up the tray Charlotte had hastily ordered, the three women made their way downstairs to the basement of the consulate, following the shouts and laughter coming from a room at the far end. For a moment, Clarisse wondered wildly what she had agreed to, but she stepped into the room after Charlotte, with Mia close on her heels.

Instant silence except for a ball bouncing away greeted their arrival, then Joseph was at their sides. "Your Majesty! Your Highness. Charlotte," he acknowledged the others, but his eyes remained on Clarisse.

Mia grinned as she read what was inscribed on his black t-shirt: "Real Men Wear Black". She nudged Charlotte who merely glanced at Joseph, then turned to a table nearby and set the tray down.

"We came to watch you play basketball, Joe. I told Grandma how good you were, and she wanted to see," Mia explained.

Clarisse's lips tightened almost imperceptibly, and Charlotte quickly added, "If it wouldn't be a bother."

"No problem at all." Then Joseph smiled slightly and, with a twinkle in his eyes, bowed and asked politely, "Your Majesty, would you care to play?"

"No, thank you. I prefer being a spectator," Clarisse said with dignity, sitting very straight in her chair with her ankles properly crossed. "I believe it is better to watch men get all hot and sweaty than for ME to get all hot and sweaty." She regretted her provocative words the moment they passed her lips, especially when the wicked light in Joseph's eyes told her he had not missed them. "I'm not very athletic," she amended, knowing it was too late to salvage the moment, and succeeding with heroic effort to keep her blush down.

Mia grinned. "So I take after you in more ways than one, I guess."

"Well, I'd better get back to the game. And speaking of getting hot and sweaty," Joseph pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, dropping it on the empty chair beside Clarisse. Then he joined the other men on the basketball court, half of them bare-chested, half clothed in t-shirts.

Clarisse felt her mouth grow dry as she stared at a very nice expanse of bare tanned skin lightly dusted with dark hair. Here was a man who didn't worry about his exterior ... and why should he? Women of all ages only had to take one look at Joseph before starting to drool. Without thinking, she swiped surreptitiously at her chin with her fingers. Luckily they came away dry. She knew she was going to have to take control of herself before she did something foolish, like throw herself at him. She really HAD been without a man for too long. She and Rupert had been good friends, BEST friends, but never lovers after Philippe's birth.

Taking a sip out of the glass of iced tea in front of her, Clarisse looked around nonchalantly, trying not to notice the one man in particular as the men were playing their game. It was hard, with Mia and Charlotte cheering him on. Mia tried to explain the rules, but Clarisse was still confused. She noticed, however, that whenever Joseph had the ball, he managed to wind his way down the room, bouncing it all the way and, despite the efforts of some of the other men, throw it over their waving hands and through a hoop and net.

"Isn't he GREAT, Grandma?" Mia asked, excitedly, clapping madly when Joseph sank another basket, and not waiting for a response from the queen.

When the game appeared to be finished, Clarisse was still confused as to what she had been watching. She only knew Joseph had been one of the winners by Mia's enthusiastic cheers. Charlotte tried to explain that there had been two teams, t-shirts versus no t-shirts, and that Joseph's team had handily beat the other team.

Joseph walked back for his t-shirt and pulled it on. Then he audaciously picked up Clarisse's glass of iced tea and drained half the glass before he set it back down. "Until later, ladies. We're hitting the showers now, and I'm sure you need to prepare yourselves for this evening," and he winked at Charlotte and made a mocking bow to both Mia and Clarisse before walking away.

"Now that IS one real man ..." Charlotte sighed dreamily, referring to the inscription on his t-shirt.

Clarisse struggled not to glare at the silly woman. Joseph was MUCH too old for HER! Then she was angry at herself for even thinking such a thing. Joseph meant nothing to her that way. He COULDN'T. It was simply unthinkable and definitely not acceptable.

"I wonder why it seems to be so sexy when a man drinks out of your glass like Joe did yours, Grandma," Mia mused, leaning her head on her hand as she watched Joseph and the others head back upstairs, "but the thought of having to share a toothbrush ..." she shuddered.

"MIA!" Clarisse exclaimed in horror. "A princess NEVER speaks of a man as being ... what you just said."

"You mean sexy, or what?"

Clarisse closed her eyes momentarily, struggling to regain control. "Yes. Please do not say that publicly again."

"But this isn't public, is it? I mean, it's just you, me and Charlotte. It's, like, family, you know?"

"Mia ..." Clarisse's warning sounded strained to her own ears.

"Gee, Grandma, don't get so hung up on a word. Don't you think Joseph's sexy? You agree with me, don't you, Charlotte?"

Clarisse abruptly rose to her feet. "Come, we must get ready for tonight. You will come in yourself, Mia ..."

"Yes, Joe told me that yesterday. He showed me how to come down the stairs. He said he would be waiting at the bottom and take care of me, since you won't be entering until later."

Obviously she was not going to be able to turn her grand-daughter's mind from Joseph. Clarisse bowed to the inevitable. "That's right, Mia. You'll be fine with Joseph. Just ... do as he says, and you'll be all right."

"I hope so, Grandma. I really don't want to disappoint you again. I'm SO sorry I was such an idiot at the beach party ..."

Clarisse held up a hand to stop her grand-daughter. "There is no need to discuss that incident further. Put it out of your mind. Joseph assured me ..." she paused. For heaven's sake, now SHE was bringing the man into the conversation! She continued determinedly, "that it was mostly the young man's ego at work, and not your fault at all."

"Thanks, Grandma. I hope I don't disappoint you tonight." Mia beamed.

"I hardly think that is possible." Clarisse smiled at the girl. She may not allow herself to reveal it much, but Clarisse was growing to love her grand-daughter dearly. She still hoped the girl would change her mind and agree to become the crown princess of Genovia. If all went well at the State dinner tonight, the possibility was definitely nearer to success! As for halting the burgeoning change in the relationship between herself and Joseph, Clarisse was going to have to work even harder at keeping her emotions under wraps if she were to hope for any possibility of success in THAT field.


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

Later the following evening, after the State dinner the night before and Clarisse's eventful day with Mia in San Francisco, the queen of Genovia found herself in her room, unable to settle down enough to do her needlework. She sat with it before her, sipping on the tea her lady's maid had brought her and thinking about Joseph and his anger over how she and Mia had spent the day alone. Clarisse gazed at the colourful pears on the canvas, but didn't see them. She found that her emotions were stirring, that tears, anger, frustration seemed closer to the surface than she had ever allowed them to be in Genovia, and she tried to excuse her weakness by telling herself firmly that meeting her grand-daughter and trying to groom her for the throne was the cause. It simply could not be that she was ... falling in love for the first time in her life. Impossible!

Although Rupert hadn't been the romantic husband of her girlish dreams, he had been good and kind. She realized that, buried deep inside, was a small defiant part of her that wished she had not bent to her parents' insistence that she marry the young king. She had hoped that, after they had married, their affection would deepen into love, but that had never happened. How many times had she wanted to shout to Rupert, "LOOK AT ME! Look at me and see ME, not just the sons I have borne you! Make me love you, because friendship and respect cannot be enough for either of us! Make me love you!" She never had, of course, but the traitorous thoughts had been there all through their marriage.

If she had never met Joseph, Clarisse could have gone on pretending to be content, convincing herself that she did not yearn for love or sweet words or a quiet touch in the middle of the night. Yet she HAD met him, and since Rupert's death, she had grown to know Joseph much better than she had ever known her husband. With Joseph, Clarisse was sure she would be loved tempestuously, thoroughly, and delightfully. They had only danced together that once. They had never touched each other in passion, but she was sure the ache was in both of them, not just her alone. She had learned how much passion there could be in silences and in long looks. With Joseph, she was convinced there would be passion and love. With him, it would not simply be a duty ... cold, silent and soon over. And yet, there could be no place in her life for romantic fancies and sinful dreams. She had made vows ... vows to Rupert, vows to her sons, vows to her country. She should not even think of being with Joseph like that. It could never be.

Clarisse sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. Then, at a tap on her door, she sat up straight again, putting her hand to her needle as if she were busy. "Come in."

Charlotte popped her head in and said, "Excuse me for disturbing you so late, your Majesty, but you asked to have invitations for the Independence Day Ball sent to the policeman and the, umm, trolley driver from this afternoon. I just wanted to say that they were sent out by courier."

"Thank you, Charlotte."

"Would you like some more tea?"

"No, thank you. This is fine. It's rather late, and I suppose I should go to bed."

Charlotte nodded. "Very well." Then she smiled. "From the sounds in the basement when I went past just now on my way up here, there's another basketball game going on. At least, I hear the ball bouncing a lot. No talking or laughing, but I DO hear the ball. You'd think those men would get enough exercise during the day, wouldn't you?"

Nodding her agreement, Clarisse said nothing.

"Your Majesty? I also wanted to say that I'm sorry about ... well, about encouraging the princess when we were watching the game yesterday. I know you weren't very happy with us ..."

"Oh, tush." Clarisse got to her feet and smiled at her assistant. "I suppose I need to relax a little more, myself."

"And what a way to do it!" Charlotte's eyes sparkled as she remembered. "Did you see Frank, the tall blond man on Joseph's team? I almost drooled while looking at him."

Clarisse raised a delicate eyebrow, and Charlotte blushed. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. I'm doing it again. I'll just leave you now."

"Good night, Charlotte." When the younger woman had gone, Clarisse looked down to her needlework in faint distaste. She hadn't noticed anyone but Joseph yesterday. What did that say about her powers of observation?

Her hand reached out for her robe, then stopped. Her heart suddenly pounding, Clarisse made a spur of the moment decision. She would go down to see if Joseph was in on the basketball game. She would manage to contain her drooling, and perhaps learn something about the game ... Stealthily, Clarisse crept out of her room and made her way down the stairs, avoiding the guards as they patrolled the hallways. She slipped through the basement doorway, pulling it partially closed behind herself. The sound of the ball bouncing met her ears, and she realized that Charlotte had been right, there wasn't the talking nor the laughter that had accompanied yesterday's exuberant game.

Peeking through the partially opened door, Clarisse saw that it WAS Joseph, bare-chested as before, bouncing the ball and throwing it into the basket – perfectly every time. He had a scowl on his face, one that had appeared the moment Clarisse had been delivered back to the consulate by the police this afternoon and had not gone away since. Obviously he was still trying to work off his anger from the day. Clarisse smiled to herself. She had thoroughly enjoyed her day with her grand-daughter, and felt that it was good to keep Joseph on his toes!

Lost in her thoughts as she feasted her eyes on the half-naked man in the room, Clarisse didn't have a chance to draw back when he suddenly turned towards the door and growled, "You may as well come in, because I know you're there."

Biting her lip, Clarisse raised her chin and stepped into the room. "Joseph."

"Your Majesty." It was obvious that he was still annoyed.

"I thought you needed more people to play this game."

"If you're going to play the game, yes. I am just shooting baskets."

"Shooting baskets?"

"Throwing the ball and trying to get it through the hoop." he explained rather curtly.

"You're very good at it," she said, trying to keep her eyes on his, and not let them wander down his body.

"Thank you. I asked you yesterday if you would like to play. Would you care to try tonight? It's a good way to relieve any stress you might have."

"Just throwing a ball at a hoop?" Clarisse asked incredulously. "Does everyone try to get it through the same hoop? Or just the one closest to you?"

He asked rather reluctantly, "Would you like for me to explain the game briefly, your Majesty?"

"If you would."

Handing her the basketball, Joseph picked up another from by the wall, and began bouncing it, saying, "A basketball game is played by two teams, usually consisting of 5 players each at any one time. The object is to get the ball through the other team's hoop." He held up his ball, then threw it towards the hoop on the far wall. It went through.

Clarisse smiled. "Sounds easy enough." She began to walk closer to the hoop herself, getting the feel of the ball in her hands, and wondering if she could get it through the hoop as effortlessly as Joseph did.

"Of course, usually the other team is trying to stop you," he said, blocking her path and stopping her in her tracks. "Also, you can't just hold the ball and walk. You have to bounce it while you move. The only time you can actually HOLD the ball is when you're standing still." He reached out and tapped on the ball she was holding, and it fell out of her hands. "And even then, the other team is trying to get it away from you."

"Oh!" Clarisse grabbed at it, laughing a little as she missed and it bounced away.

Joseph, still unsmiling, picked it up and handed it back to her. "Here, your Majesty. When you are given a free throw, you stand here ..." he showed her the place on the floor. "Then you hold the ball like this ..." he picked up another ball and positioned his hands correctly. "Then you toss it in." His ball arched up and went through the hoop, barely touching the netting as it passed.

Clarisse copied his motions and threw the ball. It hit the hoop and bounced off at an angle. "Oh," she murmured in chagrin. "It is harder than you make it look."

"I have been practicing and playing for years. This is your first time." He fetched the ball for her, and she bounced it once, experimentally, then tried throwing it again. Once more, she missed.

As he went after the ball, Clarisse said quietly, "Why are you still so upset about today, Joseph? Mia and I just ..." She broke off when he came back, tossing the ball away, and took hold of her upper arms to pull her closer. Their bodies bumped. Joseph watched her eyes deepen in confusion. "What do you think you are doing?" she demanded tightly, her body stiff against his.

"Testing a theory." He looked down at her mouth. Her lips were full, slightly parted, and incredibly tempting.

"Don't you dare." She meant her challenge to come out as an order, but her voice shook. Surely he wasn't planning to ...

His eyes came back to hers and held. "Are you afraid, your Majesty?"

The question was just the one to stiffen her spine. "Of course not! It's just that I'd rather be kissed by a toad." she lied.

She started to pull back, then found herself tight against him, eyes and mouth lined up, warm breath mingling. She hadn't expected his mouth to be so hot, so hard, so hungry. She had thought the kiss would be easily resisted and easily forgotten, but she had been very wrong. Even as she gasped for air, he deepened the kiss. She tried to shake her head, but succeeded only in changing the angle. The hands that had reached for his shoulders in protest slid possessively around his neck. Their kisses were demanding, frustrating and delightful, all at once.

Clarisse's world, so beautifully secure, tilted under her feet. She couldn't breathe, couldn't even think. All of the weighty and worrisome cares she carried within vanished, and in their place, rioting sensations grew rapidly. It had been so long since she had been touched this intimately, so long since she had wanted any man. But she wanted Joseph now. The sheer power of that want ripped through her, tearing a sobbing moan from her throat.

Joseph released her so quickly that she stumbled back even as her hands slid away from him. "Your Majesty, forgive me! I lost my head ... I don't know why I kissed you ... I'm truly sorry ..."

Her eyes darkened with emotion and wide with shock, Clarisse was unable to say anything. Feelings, too many of them, clogged in her throat. Instead, she made a helpless gesture with her hands, and just stood there, feeling lost. Finally she found her voice. "I'd like you to leave me alone." Never in her life had she been more moved, or more devastated. He had just opened up a door to some secret world for her, then slammed it again in her face with his apology.

"I will escort you upstairs ..." he began.

"No!" Clarisse whirled away from him and escaped the room and his presence. She hadn't wanted to love him, and naturally he had never asked her to care for him in that way. He had only kissed her on impulse, she reminded herself as she hastened quietly up to her room, probably just as a dare to himself. There couldn't possibly have been affection in his kisses, or softness, or romance. The fact that they had stirred her so powerfully was strictly chemical. She had learned to do without such things as affection, softness and romance, and could continue to do without them.

If only she hadn't responded to him so blatantly! She had thrown herself at him, clinging to him, answering those demanding lips with a fervour she had never been able to show her own husband. She had humiliated herself, demeaned the crown of Genovia. If only she couldn't still taste him!

Slipping into her room and closing the door behind herself, Clarisse leaned back against it, her eyes closed as she relived the moments in Joseph's arms. Tears gathered in her eyes and seeped from beneath her lids. If only things were different. If only she were not the queen of Genovia, but merely a woman ready to accept love for herself. If only dreams could come true ...


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

Had all her hopes and dreams come crashing down in ruins around her? Clarisse leaned back in the limousine and closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. She had KNOWN Mia would not likely accept the throne, but she had hoped otherwise. Now, however, having seen how her grand-daughter's eyes never quite met hers when talking about how she would be getting to the ball that evening, Clarisse felt the destruction of her world as keenly as if there had been a physical earthquake. Still, Mia HAD submitted to the hug. Perhaps she was just shy. Perhaps she WOULD agree to be the crown princess of Genovia, even if only to escape making a speech to the press. Perhaps Mia would listen to her grandmother's sincere statement that she had faith in the young girl NOT disappointing the people of Genovia.

Joseph had driven Clarisse to her grand-daughter's place this morning, and had remained outside. Neither of them had referred aloud to the episode in the basement of the consulate, yet the memory of their kisses haunted them both. Following the scandal Mia had initiated at the beach party, Joseph had spoken to Clarisse, saying that the boy's kiss had been merely a device to gain himself fifteen minutes of fame. His impassioned defence of the young girl had Clarisse re-think her actions. After a moment, she had asked Joseph pleadingly, "Do YOU think she can do it?" and Joseph had smoothly calmed her nerves by saying he had no doubt. Then, as if sensing her emotions perilously near breaking point, he had advised her to call Charlotte and have a cup of tea to soothe her nerves before meeting with the press. That had been the only time Clarisse had been alone with Joseph until this very morning ... although being alone in a limousine with Joseph driving and herself in the back seat was hardly conducive to conversation.

Clarisse had woken up this morning, realizing she only had two more days in America, and that she wanted to spend more time with her grand-daughter. Tomorrow would entail final meetings in preparation for her return to Genovia, tonight was the ball, so this morning had been the only time available to deliver Philippe's final birthday gift to his daughter. Seeing Mia smoothing the rich red leather of the diary, Clarisse had been pleased to see her grand-daughter's pleasure. That had given her the courage to apologize for her words the other day following the beach scandal, admitting that it had been very judgmental of her and that she hadn't gathered all the facts of the incident.

What had really seared itself into Clarisse's heart, however, had been Mia's admission that she was afraid of disappointing the people of Genovia, and more importantly, disappointing Clarisse again. The look in the girl's eyes had made Clarisse pause for control before she had said firmly, "I have faith in you."

And she did, she DID have faith in Amelia. As Joseph had said, Mia had shown great respect and had indeed acted beyond her fifteen years of age. Why, then, was Clarisse still edgy? Why did she feel as if she were standing on a precipice? Was it knowing that the von Trokens were waiting ever more impatiently for their chance to wrest the country from the firm grip of the Renaldis? She opened her eyes, resting her gaze on the back of Joseph's head. Maybe it was time to admit that her first and foremost problem was not Mia, nor the von Trokens, but rather the more formal relationship that had existed between herself and this man ever since the outpouring of their emotions the other night. She HAD to talk to Joseph. But first she had to see this evening through. It was expected of her. She could do nothing else.

O o O o O o O o

Never in her life had Clarisse experienced such a wide range of emotions as that night of the Independence Day Ball in San Francisco. Inwardly suffering from nervousness and despondency when she had realized Mia was not going to show, she had felt the strain of maintaining her composure in the face of the huge gathering. When at last she had stalled as long as possible, Queen Clarisse had stiffened her resolve and, putting all thoughts of Joseph and a possible future with him out of her mind, she had stood at the podium and had begun the speech that would bring to an end an era in her beloved country.

Just in the nick of time, Joseph had arrived with a bedraggled princess and Clarisse's mood had swung upwards in a heartbeat. Never had she been so proud or so fond of her grand-daughter as the moment the girl had mustered her courage, conquered her fears of inadequacy, and regally accepted the throne with a phenomenal inauguration speech. Following the formalities, Mia had been whisked away by Charlotte and Clarisse and quickly readied for the ball. Arm in arm, grandmother and grand-daughter had re-entered the ballroom, Clarisse so full of joy that she fairly sparkled. Everyone at the ball commented on the beauty of both grandmother and grand-daughter. With an energy that belied her years, Clarisse danced every dance, unable to contain her happiness. The icing on the cake had been when Joseph had cut in on her very first dance with the prime minister and had sent her pulse soaring by his comment that he had planned to spirit her away to a private place in the garden until Mia and her escort had pre-empted him.

Much later that evening, Clarisse found herself in Joseph's arms again on the dance floor. With Joseph's help in 'directing traffic', she had managed at least part of a dance with every gentleman in attendance, even with Bruce and Arthur, Masters of the Order of the Rose. Time and again, however, she had returned to the embrace of this man who, she now admitted to herself and thought she was ready to confess to him, held her heart firmly in his capable hands.

Trying to convey some of her deep gratitude, Clarisse spoke softly as they moved around the dance floor. "I understand from Charlotte that you spent most of this afternoon playing basketball again. You must be right about it reducing stress, because you acted promptly and efficiently earlier tonight. You really were 'on top of your game', I believe is the expression. Thank you, Joseph, for getting Mia here. She would not have been here in time had you not realized when you did and set off immediately."

"It was a long shot, but I kept going until I found her."

"I thought you were going to get a penalty," she teased him gently.

"No violation or foul was committed. Yet." he added, his thumb moving suggestively on her hand.

Clarisse swallowed, and tried to keep the conversation light as she concentrated on her dancing. "And if one WAS committed? Then what?"

"Then I suppose I could request a time out."

"Time out?"

"Mmhmm. Quite legal for basketball as well as for other situations in life. In fact, I'd like to ask for one now, your Majesty."

"What ...?"

"We could go into some defence strategies ..."

Just then, Joseph felt a tap on his shoulder. Irritated, he looked around to see the princess and her escort, Michael, smiling expectantly at them. With a half-hearted smile in return, Joseph relinquished the queen to the nervous young man, saying in an undertone to her, "THIS is an example of a foul!" before taking the girl in his arms and sweeping her away in the dance.

"Joe?" Mia said, rather timidly.

"Yes, your Highness?"

"Joe, I just want to thank you again for coming to my rescue tonight."

"I was merely doing my duty."

"I don't think so." Mia leaned closer and kissed his cheek as she had earlier that evening. "Thank you SO much, Joe! Ummm, is it all right if I kiss you in public? Joe? You aren't BLUSHING, are you?"

"THAT was a low blow, your Highness!" he said gruffly. "Of course I'm not blushing. It must be the lighting or even the extreme heat in here."

Mia grinned at him. "Whatever you say," she said, cheekily.

Meanwhile, Clarisse was struggling to find something to say to Mia's young man, finally remembering that he was the one who had helped with the Mustang. Talking about the car and how he had fixed the brakes already filled in the time until they were once more met by Joseph and Mia. Both couples gladly went to their own partners.

"Your Majesty?" Joseph murmured in Clarisse's ear, "When may I call for a time out?"

"Joseph, we can't just leave ..."

"We have been here an eternity, doesn't it feel like it to you? You have completed your duty dances. Surely we're in the last quarter of the game and believe me, a time out is in order!"

"Oh, very well. Just let me speak with Sebastian ..." Clarisse began, but Joseph danced her over to the door before she could stop him.

"I already told him you might be retiring early," Joseph said.

The guards at the door opened it, bowing as Joseph followed Clarisse out, his hand warm and possessive on her back. They paced sedately down the hallway, Joseph waving away the guards, then taking Clarisse's hand in his. Once up the stairs, however, he hurried her down the deserted corridor without saying a word.

"Joseph?" Clarisse asked breathlessly as he steered her towards her room.

Joseph stopped abruptly and swung to face her. There was no mistaking the meaning of Joseph's actions; not when his fingers had closed over hers with taut possession, not when his desire to kiss her was so clear in his deep eyes through the moonlight from the nearby window. Clarisse wished she could have been so certain of her own needs.

"The rain appears to have cleared away ..." she began timidly.

"Your time is up, Clarisse," his voice was low and husky, making her shiver with her desire.

"Joseph, please, I think ..."

"You think too much." His hand touched her cheek. "Let me kiss you again, Clarisse."

She couldn't deny him anything. Not when he had done so much for her tonight already. Not when her heart was so full of love for him. When his mouth came to hers at last, it was soft as a whisper. His hands didn't race to excite, but moved with exquisite patience to seduce. He had to feel her confusion, had to hear it in the unsteady murmur of his name, but he only rubbed his lips over hers. His strong hands moved over the tensed slope of her shoulders, then slid down her arms.

"Trust me." he whispered against her lips before kissing her lightly on her cheeks. "Let go and trust me, Clarisse." Over her jaw, down the line of her throat, back to her trembling lips, his mouth whispered. "Kiss me ..."

"I shouldn't ..." His kisses had her sinking deeply into a thick, velvety haze. She couldn't get her bearings, and didn't really want to. Surely this endless, echoing tunnel was paradise.

He touched, hardly touching at all, and left her weak. His mouth, gliding like a cool breeze over her flesh, was rapture. She could hear him murmur to her, incredible promises, soft and lovely words. There was passion in the words, yet this was a passion to give she had never expected.

"We can't get involved ..." But even as she said it, her mouth was moving against his.

"I know." He changed the angle of his head and sucked on her bottom lip.

"This is just ... oooh ... chemistry." Her fingers locked around his neck.

"You're right." He kissed her again quickly on the lips, then moved to her ear.

Clarisse trembled, and managed to gasp, "It mustn't go anywhere."

"It already has. This isn't a time for talking, Clarisse, only for playing the game. It is our time for loving."

He was right. She let herself fall into his kisses, into the heat they engendered. She needed this, although she couldn't afford to want or need as the queen. She had too many responsibilities, too much to worry about without having a secret relationship with her Head of Security. But she couldn't pull away. Not just yet. Just another moment or two of his delicious kisses ...

"Enough!" she gasped at last, half-plea, half-demand.

"I think not." His control was strained to the limit. "You will remember this forever," he vowed huskily. "Moment to moment, heartbeat to heartbeat, you will remember me, us, and everything we shared. Never again will you have to wonder about us! So soft," he murmured, "so smooth and sleek, so perfectly formed. You really are exquisite." Joseph held her in the shelter of his arms even as his hands moved, learning and soothing her all at once. "You are incredible," he said at last, softly.

She smiled. "Mmmmhmmmm." Her cheeks felt tender, and she realized she was going to be pink for a while – evidence of his beard rubbing her. Somehow, she didn't care. Makeup would take care of that, and his kisses had definitely been worth it.

"I've never experienced anything remotely like your kisses," he said with simple truth.

"I must say that I haven't either."

"So we can say I scored?" he asked, tracing her cheek with a gentle finger.

"Joseph?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I believe this got out of hand."

He could hear the smile in her voice, and his own lips twitched. "I believe you are right, Clarisse."

Her fingers travelled lightly over his cheeks. "Joseph? Did you really score ... or," she hesitated, then pressed her lips to his before finishing, "did I?" Then she laughed softly and added teasingly, "I think I might grow to love basketball, especially if you play with me. In fact, let's install a court in the palace in Genovia. Once more, thank you for tonight, for bringing Mia here, but most of all, for ... for loving me. It has been an eventful six weeks here. Truthfully, Joseph, wouldn't you say we BOTH scored?"

The END of this story, the BEGINNING of their future together!


End file.
